Verglas
by helxium
Summary: Look, I didn't ask for any of this. The last thing I needed was to get transported to a world of pedophiliac kings, emo-wannabes with ridiculously long hair, and blue-haired children with an unhealthy obsession for tits. The worst part? I would never get to go to the Wiz Khalifa concert I prepaid for.
1. open sesame

**title:** verglas  
 **summary:** Look, I didn't ask for any of this. The last thing I needed was to get transported to a world of pedophiliac kings, emo-wannabes with ridiculously long hair, and blue-haired children with an unhealthy obsession for tits. The worst part? I would never get to go to the Wiz Khalifa concert I prepaid for. **  
** **epigraph:** (n.) a thin coating of ice or frozen rain on an exposed surface.

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 **open sesame**

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I'm going to kill my father.

This is the only coherent thought that runs through my head at the moment. Needless to say, there's been many times when Abe's pissed me off, but getting lost in a termite-infested underground maze with no service really took the cake.

Oh, hey, look—there's death crawling my way in the form of a prehistoric arachnid. It's okay, I didn't need a functional heart anyways.

"SWEET MOTHER OF JESUS!" I suppose there were more appropriate phrases that could've been used in this situation, but the rational part of my brain reasoned that if I was going to die, it'd be better going down with a prayer.

Again, I'm going to kill my father.

 _"We're going to Turkey?" I echo, making sure I'd heard right._

 _My father nods enthusiastically, undeterred by the less-than-happy hues coloring my voice. I cringe as I watch him prance about, knowing him well enough to know that the only reason he was so enthusiastic about this trip was so he could visit the freshly unearthed city in Cappadocia._

 _I, on the other hand, preferred not to spend my summer covered in a sheen of sweat trying to scavenge my way through dirt houses._

 _"Why don't we go to Hawaii instead?" I offer, forking my salad._

 _"But darling! Hawaii is so overdone! Wouldn't you rather visit an exotic country? Think about the culture! The food! The history."_

 _"I like Hawaii better. There's a beach and hot surfer guys."_

 _"We're going to Turkey and you're going to like it."_

In that moment, I had an epiphany—

I was going to die without going to the Wiz Khalifa concert I prepaid for.

This is injustice.

I knew I should've become a prostitute when I still had the chance. Damn you, moral conscience.

Also, because I'm a dumbass, I end up getting even more lost. Courtesy of stupid bats and satanic spiders. Is this what I get for eating that damn grape when I was supposed to be fasting?! IT WAS ONLY ONE GRAPE!

It's okay, Brae, You're not a slut. You always picked the pepperoni off the pizza before eating it. You're not a slut.

The lord should love you enough to not let you die, right?

I begin to enter the first stages of hysteria.

"I'M SORRY!" I scream, falling to my knees. I tremble from both the cold and fear, reverting to a fatal burrito position. I rock back and forth, big, fat tears rolling down my chin, and decide it's a good time to start embracing religion. "I'm sorry for eating that grape during Ramadan. I'm sorry for searching up twerking tutorials on YouTube. I'm sorry for contemplating Channing Tatum's dick size and refusing to get married to that old coo—I mean, _nice man_ that my father picked out for me. AND I'M SORRY FOR GOOGLING DANIEL RADCLIFFE'S NUDES WHEN I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE STUDYING FOR MY ALGEBRA TEST! I BEG OF YOU, LORD, FORGIVE THIS SINNER!"

Okay, that second to last statement may have been a stretch, but I came out here expecting to have a shitty time and I'm honestly feeling so attacked right now.

I'm a good person. I don't deserve to die.

When I'm just about ready to give up on life, the answer to my prayers arrives. What else would you call a golden butterfly looking thing that just so happened to pass by? It's a sign from God!

Because I'm a bigger dumbass than I originally thought I was, I follow the weird glowing thing into an even weirder chamber. The walls are endless and round, littered with strange, archaic symbols and glyphs Abe would've killed to study.

The butterfly flutters to the middle of the room encompassed by a circular staircase. Since I have nothing else to lose, I follow it, being mindful of my footsteps.

It rests on the surface of a podium, touching the remnants of an enlarged, carved text. The letters are foreign, almost otherworldly in appearance—and yet, I find myself opening my mouth—

"… _ **open sesame**_..?"

And that, my friends, is how you get transported to a world of pedophiliac kings, emo-wannabes with ridiculously long hair, and blue-haired children with an unhealthy obsession for tits.

All because of a damn grape. Fucking hell.

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 **A/N:** Hello! This is my first attempt at a Magi fanfic, so feel free to give me feedback/critique on what you thought and whatnot. If any of you were confused, the main character, Brae, is basically cursing her father, Abe, for taking her to one of the many underground cities in Turkey where she gets lost.

I hope you all had fun reading!


	2. chibi jesus

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 **chibi jesus**

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There's always a point in life where you contemplate death and the afterlife, only to come to the horrifying realization that your time on Earth was limited. I, too, came to this conclusion at the tender age of nine, spinning my sleep into a state of nightmares for the next seven days. You see, in my opinion, there are two routes one might choose after getting slapped by this reality—A, enroll themselves into Catholic school and become nuns-in-training, or B, party hard and live life with no regrets.

Me? I decided to tread the third, more conventional route—continue on with my daily activities as if I hadn't been plagued by dreams about death by toilet seat for the past week and pushed back those thoughts to the back of my mind.

Never once would I have thought I'd die at sixteen—okay, maybe I didn't have the best luck, nor did I make the best life decisions (probably the understatement of the century (shut up moral conscience)), but I always thought myself to be...smarter? More resourceful? Clever enough not to die without having experienced my first kiss yet?

And no, the slobbery tongue-session I received from Jeremy Malone in the fifth grade _didn't_ count.

 _Brae..._

Oh, look, I'm hallucinating already. Aren't you supposed to see a bright light at the end of a tunnel or something? Or have your life flash before your eyes? If anything, I don't even bother looking back at my mistakes—trust me, there's too many of them to recall—but instead begin to get _seriously_ pissed at the whole situation.

Really? _Really?_ The man in charge couldn't have found a better way to kill me off? Having me fall to my death in an underground pit? That was even _worse_ than death by toilet seat! What is this blasphemy?

 _Brae, calm down._

Exactly who the _fvck_ are you and how _dare_ you interrupt me in the middle of my monologue?

 _Brae, you're not dead._

The voice has the nerve to sound exasperated. How _dare_ he sound exasperated when he's not the one that _fell into a pit to their death_ and probably won't even get a decent funeral because prehistoric snakes are probably eating away at her body as we speak—

And oh, _shit_ , it's bright. Is this heaven? Wait, scratch that—there's no way I could've been virtuous enough to enter the gates of the blessed, unless some higher force had made a huge mistake—also, very unlikely. It's definitely too bright to be hell, and much, much cooler than I expected—but then again, what do I know?

 _Ah, you're awake now, aren't you?_

Holy fucking Maya mother of Buddha, there's a _blue fucking giant about to rape me_.

 _Brae, I'm not going to defile you._

I think I just leaked. Dammit.

 _...I'm beginning to think this was a mistake._ The behemoth curses. _Seven billion people—you could've picked_ anyone _, and you chose_ her _?_

Now, I'm offended. "Just _who_ the hell do you think you _are_?"

 _Oh._ It sounds surprised. _It can speak. I guess your body is more adaptable than I originally thought. Well, that makes things easier._

"Makes _what_ easier? What are you talking about?" I push myself up by my elbows, feeling dizzy. Colors swim in my vision—everything is distorted, and I can barely make out my surroundings, but I can faintly outline the shapes of at least a million swarming dots—birds? Butterflies?

Oh—it was the sign from God!

Well, looking back on it, it was more like a trap set by Satan. Ugh, trust _me_ to get targeted by the Devil.

 _You're not dead, Brae. And I'm not the incarnate of evil as portrayed by your religious texts._

Oh yeah, that makes me feel _so_ much better. "If I'm not dead, than where the hell am I?" I pause. "Unless, this is all some made-up figment of my imagination—yeah, that's it! I must've busted my head after that fall, and now I'm stuck in a coma that compels me to have really bizarre dreams!" I smack my fist against my palm. "Makes perfect sense!"

 _Err, not quite._ The blue giant, whom I dub as behemoth, sighs. _My name is Ugo, by the way—_

"—and I don't care. Wake me up from this nightmare. Seriously, it's not funny. At all."

 _Are all humans from your dimension this difficult, or is it just you?_ Behemoth—or should I say, _Ugo_ —sounds annoyed. Well, his patience lasted a lot longer than any other person's. _Listen, Brae, you have to listen to me. I only have a little bit of time left—_

"Oh, please don't get melodramatic with me—"

 _For Solomon's sake—shut. Up._

I snap my jaw shut immediately.

 _Finally!_ Ugo groans in relief, his large body rumbling as he did so. I let out a squeak, falling back to the ground, raising my arms to shield my body from his vibrations. _You know what—I'm not even going to bother trying to make sense of all this to you anymore. Listen, Brae. Are you listening?_

No, I'm too busy hyperventilating the _eff_ out, you dumb twat. "Yes, of course, proceed."

 _Alright. In a few minutes, you're about to wake up in a world completely different from the one you lived in—whatever you do, do_ not _panic. You'll meet a young boy shortly after you wake. His name is Aladdin._

It's official—I'm going insane.

 _Whatever you do—protect the boy at all costs. Offer him friendship and guidance when he is lost. Be his sole source of comfort, if you must._ What the fuck do I look like, his mother? _Listen to me, Brae. This child...he is destined for greatness. He will guide this new world into a state of propriety—he has not come to bring peace to the world, but a sword. He will be the salvation of this ruined world...guide the corrupted into better ways...fulfill Solomon's will..._

Ah, there's that blinding light I'd been waiting for. Ugo's voice drifts off farther and farther until it's a mere murmur, a whisper of the wind—still, his words ring in my ears like a promise.

 _Protect him...the Magi...Aladdin..._

And then, everything goes white.

I don't know how long it takes until I come to, only know of the dank, empty whiteness staining my world. It seems like years as I drift by, yet mere seconds at the same time—a strange, effortless inconsistency, weaving together space and time with the delicacy of a widow's spindle, and suddenly, I'm not myself—not Brae, but a million stars, burning through the vast universe, set ablaze by a black sun—

Then, I wake up.

The sun is back and no longer is it black, I can hear the murmur of wind rustling thorough grass, smell the scent of dirt and wild daffodils, and relish in the choking embrace of a blue blob nuzzling his face into my bouncing Buddhas, and—

 _Wait_.

"Oh, you're awake!" the blue blob smiles up at me, thrusting one hand in the air in an awkward wave. "Hey, there, pretty lady! My name's Aladdin!"

I punch the kid and send him flying into the stratosphere without any regrets.

Two seconds later, I'm sitting cross-legged on the ground, facing the Titty Freak who currently has a swelling bump on the back of his head.

"So let me get this straight." I state, holding a finger up to silence the blue...thing (I have yet to acknowledge it as a human child). "You mean to say, your imaginary friend, who just so happens to be the rapist giant that I hallucinated when I died, sent you down on this planet because you were throwing a hissy fit."

"Mm-hmm—hold on." He pouted. "Ugo isn't imaginary! He's real!"

"And I fell down from the sky."

"Yup!"

"I see. It all makes sense now!"

"Doesn't it?"

"Hahaha, OF COURSE NOT, YOU SHITTY BRAT!" I dig my knuckles into both sides of his blue-haired head, causing him to cry out. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU TAKE ME FOR? AN IDIOT?"

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, OW!" Titty Freak whimpers, clutching his head. His eyes begin to water. "Why are you hurting me? I didn't do anything wrong!"

"You seriously think I'm stupid enough to believe that?" I hiss, shaking his shoulders. "Listen, freak! We're lost in the middle of a damn desert with no WiFi, no phone, no GPS, no means of communication—and you have the gall to joke around? At this rate, we're going to eventually be shat out of a hyena's anus! And I refuse to be digested until I've seen Wiz Khalifa perform live!"

Innocently, he asks, "Who's Wiz Khalifa?"

"YOU IDIOT!" Part of me wonders if I'm breaking some major child abuse law, but the rational part of me argues that I'm currently in the Middle East and they wouldn't really give a damn. "Look. I bet you're the kid of some rich hippie parents who, by some unfathomable reason, decided to dye their son's hair fucking blue," I gag, "—and they're probably out losing their marbles after they found out you weren't playing GTA in your room." I take a deep breath. "Now, tell me the truth—we were kidnapped by terrorists and dumped out here and left to die, weren't we?"

"...I don't think so?"

"LIAR!" I wail, falling to a heap of sobs. I bury my face in the ground, weeping on the dirt. "I'M GOING TO BE SOLD ON THE BLACK MARKET TO SOME PERVERTED OLD MAN AND FORCED TO WASH HIS FEET FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE! AND I'VE NEVER EVEN HAD MY FIRST KISS YET! BUAAA—"

I pause.

"— _ **wait**_."

Titty Freak jumps at my sudden change of tone, his lower lip trembling in fright. "Y-yes?"

"...what did you say your name was?"

"A-Aladdin?"

It hits me like a ton of bricks.

 _"Protect him...the Magi... **Aladdin**..."_

I gasp, my hand flying to my mouth. I point at the boy with a shaking finger. Aladdin looks alarmed, sweatbeads rolling down his forehead.

"It's _you_!" I wave my hand up and down. "You! You're that kid Behemoth was talking about! The one 'destined for greatness' or some crap!" My eyes are wide. "You're Chibi Jesus!"

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 **A/N:** How long has it been since I've updated this, gahhhh! I'm a huge procrastinator I'm so sorry '~' But, here's the next chapter for Verglas! If you hadn't connected the dots before, Brae is basically referring to Aladdin as Chibi Jesus because, well, his "destiny" of fulfilling an otherworldly purpose and bringing peace to the world, yada yada yada, is similar to that of Jesus, haha.

For anyone who didn't get the reference, "bouncing Buddhas" are basically boobs. I'msosorrygoodbye.


End file.
